The Thing about Girls
by Ariels Lament
Summary: Gru didn't know quite what was in store for him when he adopted the three little orphan girls. They don't stay little forever, and there are some things dad's just can't deal with when it comes to their daughters.
1. The Birds and the Bees

_**Disclaimer: Despicable Me is not mine, yo! :D**_

**_You know...just in case you were wondering or anything..._**

**_A/N: I just wanted to say...this was actually supposed to be the second of three parts of this story, the first part of which involved Gru accidentally discovering Margo's first bra in the wash and freaking out in the way dads do when their little girls are suddenly not so little anymore...But as much as I adored the idea, it's just not working. Maybe if I can get it to work, I'll still add it as the last chapter, but this one has been done for two weeks now, and the third part is almost complete as well...and I can't stand the wait anymore! D:_**

**_But this...I'll say that this was one of the first things to pop into my mind after watching the movie, however sick and cruel that might be. But it's already been done once on here, so I don't feel quite so strange about it! I like to call it 'Epic Character Torturing Plot Device of DOOM!'. :)_**

**__****When I first wrote this, I thought it was the funniest thing ever! But now, I'm not so certain...In any case I hope that you enjoy it and maybe let me know what you think!**

**__****Oh, and last thing for reals...Sheena's mom is the one who took Margo bra shopping a good while before this part of the story without Gru's knowledge of it. Probably not that important, but I thought I'd just say...So here we go!**

* * *

For what had to be the fifth time at _least_, Gru passed by the wall, hoping beyond hope that it would be empty this time. He'd wandered throughout the neighboring aisles for nigh half an hour by this point, pretending to browse through toothbrushes and soaps, even shampoo, until a few conspicuous, questioning glances made him realize how much more suspicious that last option made him look.

A sneak peak around the entrance of the aisle proved his wait to be nearly over. Only one more woman was present. Her arms were crossed and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she continued to scan the wall.

It was painful to watch her linger there, pulling a box every now and then, reading the back, checking the price, and then placing it back on the shelf with a shake of her dark-haired head, and it was all Gru could do to fight back the growl threatening to escape his throat. This was just ridiculous! How long could someone possibly _need_ to get something so _simple_. His fingers itched to reach for the weapon hiding inside his coat, but he refrained. This was a covert operation, and the only reason it had taken this long already was from his desire not to bring attention to himself.

Instead, he took to glaring at the back of the woman's head, until—Hallelujah! It was about God forsaken _time—_she settled on a box, gave a resigned shrug, and pushed her cart along it's merry way. A quick look around assured Gru that nobody else was within several shopping aisles' radius of him, and with a small chuckle of glee, he triumphantly hopped over to the dreaded wall.

Finally! This was it! Operation grab-and-go-without-being-detected would be complete!

And he would still have time to try and figure out his next mission: Operation the-most-difficult-talk-in-the-universe.

Unfortunately for Gru, his victory party was cut short as soon as he extended a hand to the shelf. His vision was instantly assaulted by the infinite variety of products lined up ahead of him. There were just so many..._words._

Maxi, liner, overnight, ultra thin, scented, unscented...and that was only a few of them!

To add to the confusion, there were other descriptors such as absorbency—some were even advertised to have _wings_, whatever that meant. It did, however, conjure up some rather confusing images for the middle-aged super villain.

It was all like some sort of secret language of womankind.

A language he could readily admit to being far from privy to.

He stared up in helpless defeat, and his eyes carried him to a product of a different design. It was smaller, more compact, less flat and more...round. Curious, he took the box, wondering if something like this might be easier to use. Turning it around in his hands, he stared at the images on the back side and read the descriptions.

According to the product's assertions, it was an excellent one. But just how did one use it?

He flipped the box from back to front several more times, taking it's design into consideration. Moments later, his eyes widened; his jaw dropped; and he felt a profound sense of horror at what exactly he was holding in his hands. There was the sound of cardboard meeting tile, and ,with a strangled cry of disgust, he sent the abhorrent product flying down the aisle. Just for good measure.

'No!' his mind screamed as he recovered from the shocking discovery. 'Definitely not!'

There was absolutely _no_ way he could possibly take the thought of Margo using something like _that!_ Especially not if he would have to explain to her _how_ to use it. That she was going through this at all was already too much to bear. There was no need to make things more unpleasant. The thought made him groan inwardly.

Then he groaned outwardly.

Gru leaned back against the end cap behind him, his eyes closed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, thwarted, it seemed, by a vicious onslaught of feminine care products.

"Oh-ho," he began in a miserable tone. "Why me?"

But he knew however helpless and terrified he felt now, it could only be worse for Margo. She had really worried him that morning when she'd grabbed hold of him and insisted that he take her to the hospital.

* * *

"What? 'Ospital? Why?"

No answer. Margo just tugged more violently on his arm, trying her best to lead him to the door.

"No—Margo! Tell me what is wrong first, or we are not going anywhere!"

She responded with a few more fruitless tugs on his arm, but Gru hardly budged. She twirled around on her toes to look at him, and her wide-eyed fear was almost enough to send him out the door that instant. But he had to know what was going on.

"If we don't hurry, I'll bleed to death!" There was a tremor in her voice as she spoke. "I can't make it stop! We have to go. Now!" Then she resumed her previous efforts.

"Wh-what? Blood? Where?"

Gru took his daughter's cue and panicked. He dropped to his knees and searched her over, but try as he might, he could find nothing the matter with her. So he grasped her smaller hands in his own and looked her in the eye.

"Margo, what is going on? You look fine to me."

Her eyes darted about his face for several moments before she opened her mouth, only to close it immediately afterward. She went through the motion again, and then again, before biting her lip and looking down at the floor. He sighed, half in exasperation, half in defeat, once it was apparent she would not speak. Again, he tried to coax it out of her.

"Margo," he dragged out her name warily as he tried to catch her eye, "I cannot fix eet, eef I don't know what is wrong."

When she looked back at him, Gru was taken aback by the tears shining in her eyes. "Please," she begged weakly, "can we just go?"

Never before had he seen his oldest so upset, and if he had to be honest, the whole situation was starting to upset him as well. Surely he could find some way or another to reason with her? He sighed, patiently, and tried again.

"And if I take you dair, are you going to tell a stranger what eet is dat is wrong? Or will you tell me firs' and see if I can take care of eet?"

It clearly hadn't dawned on her that she would have to tell anyone else about what was going on, that she'd simply assumed going there would cure whatever was ailing her.

"Eez your choice," he finished with a small shrug.

Margo glanced about the kitchen as if to check that they were alone. Once satisfied, she took a steadying breath and made to whisper something in his ear. Gru leaned forward as well, relieved at last, to finally find out what was troubling her.

The mood was lost, however, when two little heathens chose that precise moment to come storming through the kitchen doorway

"Dad! Dad!" Edith exclaimed, excitement as plain in her expression as it was in her voice. She gestured about wildly with her arms. "You should see all the blood! It's everywhere! All over her bed and nightgown!"

Margo gasped in horror, and Gru growled menacingly at all his hard work undone.

"Daddy!"

Somehow, without his noticing, Agnes had found her way in between himself and Margo and yanked on his sweater's sleeve. Concern was written all over her face, and a stuffed unicorn was dragging on the floor behind her.

"Margo will be okay, won't she? She's not gonna die, is she?"

Of course, at hearing these words, the brunette's face paled and she shot another terrified glance Gru's way.

There was a word for this kind of situation, with the two younger girls talking over the other, their sentiments doing nothing more that reverting Margo back to her original panicked state. 'Chaos' wasn't quite strong enough to cover it though.

"I was all 'Hey, Margo, what's on your nightgown?', and she was all 'What are you talking about?', and then—"

"Daddy, you won't let anything bad happen to her, right? You can fix her, can't you—"

"And then—and then, she...she _screamed_! I dunno how you didn't _hear_—"

"You have to do something—"

"And she locked herself in the bathroom for_ever—_"

"Don't let her die!"

"She even cried!"

"Daaaaadddddddyyyyyy!"

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, OKAY! NOW JUS' STOP IT!"

Gru's eye was twitching; his nerves were shot; and if he'd had hair, he would most assuredly be bald again. He gave himself a moment to cool off in the renewed silence before speaking again in a voice of forced calm.

"Edith, Agnes, I am _trying _to figure out what is going on wit' your seester. So please. Get out of de keetchen. Now."

"Awwww, but—"

"Daddy—"

"Out! Now!" He drew himself to his full height and pointed out the doorway. "Edith, I will listen to your story when I am finished here. Agnes, your seester will be fine. Now, get ou—"

"Promise?"

"Nngh!" And again came that pesky desire for hair, if only for the satisfaction of ridding himself of it. Maybe he could opt for the little girl's instead. "Yes, yes, I promise! Now just go—"

"_Pinky_ promise?"

Gru's hand flew to his face. The collision was a bit more forceful than he intended, but he hardly noticed, really. He took a deep breath. Then another. The hand slid down his features and his eyes met Agnes', her pinky finger reached out as far as she could stretch, tip-toed and all. Unable to do much else, he appeased the young girl's ultimatum, to which she cheerily did what she was told and scuttled out of the kitchen.

Next, he aimed his stern look to Edith, whose face sported that signature pout of hers.

"What? I'm practically out the door."

And with that, she hopped up and left, without so much as a glance back.

He breathed a sigh of relief and bent over the counter, massaging his temple as he lamented briefly, "Oy...dese gorls will be de death of me."

A slight scuffle behind him reminded him how this entire stressful event had even started. Margo was staring down at the floor, her hands clasped behind her back as she traced some unknown pattern into the tile with her shoe. So uncharacteristically pathetic was the sight that his heart clenched in his chest, warding off every ounce of his previous irritation.

"I t'ink," he said gently, kneeling back down to her level and tilting her chin upward, "you were about to tell me what eet is dat has been going on dis morning."

It took a moment for her to summon up her former courage, but when she finally did lean forward and whisper in his ear, he was confused, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

Confusion turned to shock as he comprehended what was happening to his little girl.

The shock soon upgraded to terror as he comprehended what was happening to his little girl.

Then, last but not least, he outright panicked as he comprehended what was happening to his little girl.

He was certain the world was paying him back for every wicked deed he'd ever committed. And maybe giving him an advance on the ones he planned to commit.

"No—no! No, no, no, no, no," he moaned. "You are joking wit' me, right? Right?" He was begging her. "Please tell me eez a joke."

Alright. So it wasn't the most assuaging of responses to a young pre-teen who was convinced she was going to die, if the anguished look on her face told him nothing else.

"You mean it's worse than I thought?" Margo screached.

"No!" Gru backtracked, realizing the damage his words had caused. "Eez—eez jus' very—"

His hand gestured wildly for a word. Horrifying? Appalling? More than he could possibly handle? No, those wouldn't do.

"—I was jus' not expecting dis yet is all."

Or ever, really.

Wide eyes searched Gru for an explanation he didn't think he was recovered enough to give. His mind reeled at the information he'd just received, but somehow he managed to plow through his new found distress.

"Margo, you are not dying. You are fine. In fact, you are more den fine."

He gulped. What exactly was that supposed to mean?

Her cocked eyebrow asked the same question.

Feeling suddenly more awkward than he ever had in his life, Gru swallowed again and paced the length of the counter, one hand behind his back, and the other gesturing as he spoke.

"You see...Margo," he spoke slowly, weighing every word before allowing them to escape him. He was more prepared to give up his career and join the good guys than have this conversation. That was, to say, not at all. No. Even less than that. But how else was there to calm her? "You are...you are a growing girl, and, as such, eet is only normal for t'ings like this to happen. A lot, actually."

Margo stared.

Gru avoided her eye.

"Wait. So you mean that this is _supposed_ to be happening to me?" She didn't look entirely convinced, but at least she didn't seem upset anymore.

He halted his pacing and looked at her uncertainly as he gave his answer. "...Yes."

"And that this will _keep_ happening to me. Basically forever?"

"...Somet'ing like dat."

"..."

"..."

"Why?"

This time, Gru was the anguished one, slack-jawed and all. It was the dreaded question. The one he didn't _want_ his girls to have an answer to. So once he'd recovered enough to think of it, he went to his old standby. He avoided it.

"Well! Firs' t'ing's firs'. I mus' fix dis. I will be back."

And in one swift movement he reached the doorway. He paused there and sent another wary glance her way.

"Until den jus'...jus' use de toilet paper to catch eet, alrigh'?"

All morning, Margo had managed not to blush, but at those words she lost the battle, her cheeks glowing more brightly than the vibrant pink of her bedroom. The last thing Gru heard before he closed the front door behind him was her flustered sputtering of his title.

"_D-dad_!"

* * *

"Um, can I...help you sir?"

Gru's eyes shot open at the realization of his lost cover, and he found himself looking down at one of the store's workers. 'Jenny', according to her name badge.

Embarrassed at being caught in his moment of defeat, his posture straightened, arms crossed, and he tried to pull off at least an air of confidence if not of intimidation.

"Oh, no. No, I am fine. I am not needing any assistance at all."

It sounded false, even to his own ears, and the tentative smile added to the end couldn't be helping. She looked unsure, but she didn't linger.

"Alright. Well...if you need anything, just let me know."

Satisfied that he had avoided any awkward confrontation with some random teenager, Gru returned his smug face to the wall of doom. Only to be met with instantaneous defeat. As much as he hated it, there was really only one thing he could do.

"Wait...um...Jenny?"

She swiveled around on her heal to look at him, eyebrow raised in question.

He entertained second thoughts, but a quick sidelong glance at the wall squelched them all.

"De t'ing is...eez my daughter. She jus' started her," he paused, unable to say it. "Well, _you_ know," he said awkwardly, making a slight motion toward the wall. "But," he faced the wall again, one hand on his hip and the other atop his head, staring in confusion at the product-lined shelves, "I really 'ave no idea of what I should be getting for her. Eez...not so simple as I thought it to be. Now, I realize it must be weird for me to be asking you dis, and—"

"No, not at all, actually."

"Huh?"

Much to Gru's surprise, Jenny was smiling kindly at him, one of the packages tucked in her arms.

"I think it's pretty admirable for you to brave this part of the store for your daughter. It's a scary place for dads." She handed over the package. "Especially for the single ones. Trust me; my dad's still scarred from the experience."

"Oh? Oh, well...t'ank you."

He stared at the package of maxi pads, burning the image into his memory banks for the future.

"Um, one more question? As far as how to use dem..."

"Oh. No worries. There's instructions inside. You won't have to say a thing."

"Oh, t'ank you, t'ank you, t'ank you," he breathed, hugging the package to himself.

"And you," Gru spoke to Jenny, "you are a real life saver, you know dat?"

"Not at all," she replied with a smile, waving away the praise.

And now, finally, the easy part of his mission was over.

* * *

Gru leaned against the wall next to the bathroom door, waiting for Margo to reemerge. Their exchange had gone without significant event, though she seemed to find it difficult to look him in the eye. No where near as difficult as it would soon be for him, he was sure.

Lost in his emotional turmoil about what to do next, he didn't even hear the door open.

"Dad, you don't have to keep on with this. You've done more than enough. Thanks."

He was more than a little confused at her words.

"But...but I _t'ink_—I am pretty sure—dat I am now obligated to answer any and all questions you have about what is going on."

"No, Dad, I—" she hesitated, "—I called Sheena's mom a while after you left, and kinda told her about what happened—"

"You what?" Gru had to admit that it stung a little that he'd had to work so hard to get it out of her, but she'd so willingly gone to someone else. "Why would you do dat?"

"What else was I supposed to do? You'd been gone for almost an hour and wouldn't answer my question!"

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments, neither looking at the other.

"But she said...she said if you didn't feel comfortable talking about it, that...that she wouldn't mind talking to me instead. She said Sheena has it coming soon, too, so it wouldn't be a problem."

As much as he'd been dreading this talk, he couldn't help but to feel that this lady was stealing his thunder. And then it occurred to him.

"Sheena's mom...is dat de same one dat took you shopping before?"

Margo nodded, looking up at him uncertainly.

He sighed. There was really only one option, in the end.

"Geeve me her number. Eez probably best for de both of us. I am assuming you are okay wit' dis?"

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I was jus' checking before I pawn off what was to be de most embarrassing moment of my life, dat is all."

She gave a small snort of laughter and ran off. When she returned, she held out her cell phone, the screen already set on the number labeled 'Sheena's Mom'.

"Should I be worried dat her number is so easy for you to get to? How much do you call her anyways?"

"_Dad_!" She rolled her eyes and shoved the phone into his hands. "Just call her already!"

"Alright, alright." Gru shooed the girl away and stared down at the phone. It seemed he was depending on other people a lot today. With one last sigh, he punched the dial button. He couldn't help but pace again as he waited for an answer.

"Margo, is everything okay?"

Such a direct answer startled him.

"Uh, no. No—sorry! I mean...dis is Gru, Margo's dad. You are...Sheena's mom, am I right?"

There was silence on the other end, and he feared that his fumbling introduction had caused her to hang up.

"Oh! Gru! Yes, yes I am. It's Maggie."

"Ah! Maggie! I will have to remember dat one for de future. Well...umm...Margo said dat she called you earlier about her..._experience_...dis morning?"

"...Yes. She did."

"And she might 'ave mentioned somet'ing about you being willing to talk wit' her about eet?"

Silence again. And then,

"Look, Gru, I—I hope I haven't overstepped my boundaries with Margo. I know she's not my child, and I hope my offer hasn't upset you. I just thought—"

"Oh no! No, no, no. It hasn' upset me. I was actually 'oping dat it was somet'ing you were still willing to do. I don't...I don't t'ink I could handle eet, to be honest."

"Oh—well—of course I am!"

"Dat is fantastic! Wonderful!"

And several minutes later, when he'd hung up the phone, Gru slid down the wall behind him with a sigh. Relief washed over him.

It was over! It was _finally_ over!

Just then, Edith ran through _that_ particular hallway, giggling madly with a stuffed animal held hostage in her grasp. No sooner had she passed by him, completely oblivious to his presence, than Agnes appeared around the corner in hot pursuit.

"Give! Him! Back!" she cried. She tripped over a rug and fell to the ground, but it did not phase the little girl. She was up in an instant and back on her sister's trail. "I mean it, Edith!"

Soon enough, the roaring footsteps and voices died down.

Gru buried his face in his hands and gave one final, drawn out groan.

He'd celebrated too soon.

It was only over for a couple more years.

* * *

_**A/N again: Maybe a little too much? Probably...but that's okay! I figure since the girls have little to nothing in the ways of a mother figure, they missed a bunch of vital mother/daughter talk. I was 10 when I got my period and Mom had been warning me of it for a couple years, and I **_**still_ freaked out when it came. I figure this is about a year after Gru adopts them and that Margo's close to 11. Also, there_**_** was supposed to be a part noting Edith's gross exaggeration of the amount of blood, but it didn't happen, so...no, it wasn't that bad...**_


	2. The Enemy

_**A/N: Finally! It is here! It shouldn't have taken near this long considering that it was practically finished on paper when I posted the first chapter. But I fixed some things and took out some things, and it's still a perilously long chapter of doom. It was originally supposed to be much simpler, but you know what happens when you start writing something and it's just so fun! I haven't been able to write like this in years. And thank you to everyone who reviewed or fav'd. I appreciate it so much! :)**_

**_I don't think this one's very important, but in the Chapter that Wasn't, there was this really dumb thing in it about how everytime Gru and Margo had a spat, they'd have pizza for dinner as his apology, so...this chapter had a bit of reference to that one. There was going to be a finishing scene to that one, but at 6600+ words, it seemed like it was just dragging things out. Hmmm, yes...I think that's all._**

**_Enjoy! :)_**

* * *

"Oh, no, no, no, no! And what is dat you are wearing?"

"Relax, Dad, it's just a dress," Margo chided as she continued to fix her hair in front of the full length mirror on his bedroom door.

"I did not agree to dis when you asked to go," Gru grumbled, his arms crossed as he watched on in disapproval.

He didn't like the dress.

His first thought had been that there was too much skin. Far too much skin. Her shoulders were almost entirely bare, save for the tiny spaghetti straps that secured the dress to her form; and the neckline was low, way too low for comfort, making it impossible _not_ to notice just how much she had matured in the last several years.

Which, in turn, led to his second thought.

What with the way the impossibly glossy blue fabric cinched at her waist and flared outward, Gru couldn't see his little girl in there at all. Standing in his fourteen-year-old daughters stead was a woman, and even the stern look she shot at him while she pinned up another layer of hair did nothing but prove it further. There was really only one thing to say about it.

"She looks amazing!"

It was Edith who voiced his thought, and he glanced back at her. She was on his bed, lying on her stomach, with her legs kicking up and down behind her. And Gru could tell from the way she watched her sister get ready that she couldn't wait for the day she could do the same. Tomboy though she was in action, when it came to her wardrobe, she was all girl.

"Come on, Dad, even _you_ have to agree with that."

He scoffed at Edith's comment and resumed watching his oldest, his frown deepening all the while.

"She's just like a princess," Agnes offered. The youngest of the three sat cross-legged beside the mirror, looking up at Margo in complete awe. In the mirror, he could see Edith bob her head in agreement.

"Well of course I am agreeing. Dat is the problem."

In the mirror, Edith rolled her eyes. Agnes looked up at him in curiosity but, thankfully, refrained from saying anything. Margo sighed.

"Dad, it's a formal. This is what you do."

Still holding a chunk of hair atop her head, she used her free hand to wave at it, her make up, and her dress.

Gru knew that he was raining on her parade, but it was much preferable to falling prey to the multitude of other emotions he felt as he watched her.

"I don't get eet."

In frustration Margo dropped her hair altogether, the bobby pin between her teeth following it's lead. She fumed silently at all her hard work undone and twirled around to face him.

"There's nothing to get!" she exclaimed, tossing her arms up wildly in explanation. "You dress up nice; you go drink punch; and you just go have fun with your friends! That's all it is!"

"Uh-huh. Whatever."

The next thing he knew, he was standing in the hallway, having been shoved out the door by the englamouring teen. He blinked in surprise, arms still crossed over his chest.

"Now get out! You're distracting me, and if I have to start my hair over again, I won't be ready when my ride gets here!"

It was the click of the lock and the audible giggling from within that pulled Gru from his shock.

"Excuse me?" he roared, pounding on the door. "I will remind you that dis is _my_ room, and I will not be having you lock me out of eet!"

There was another explosion of giggles from Edith and Agnes followed by Margo's exasperated, "Dad, you keep shaking the mirror!"

He'd half a mind to keep pounding on the door until the blasted thing fell off and shattered. Unfortunately, his mind had the decency to remind itself that budget was tight at the moment and replacing it would not be cheap.

"Alright—you know what? Fine. _Fine!_ But I will have you know dat I won' be forgetting dis!"

And thus he made his way to the living room, stopping every now and then to direct a rant at one of the many adornments on his walls.

"So she becomes a teenager and all of de sudden eez like she can do whatever she wants! And what is eet wit' all of de talking back? Eez never been this bad before. All because of dis _stupid_ formal. Eez like a little child's game! Really, what could possibly be so entertaining about dressing up and dreenking punch?"

In his animated tirade, Gru directed his last question to two passing minions.

They stopped in their tracks and stared up at him. The shorter of the two sent a sidelong glance to the taller one who just shrugged in response. Then he looked back up, and, after a moment, he repeated the answer he'd been given.

"Oh, never mind! Sorry. Carry on."

And he walked passed them, giving up on trying to understand teenaged girls. Instead, Gru waited for his room to be released from their tyranny by pulling out the blueprints for his next fiendish plan.

He studied them for a long time before the doorbell jarred him from his work, and he knew when Margo yelled down that she'd get it, that it heralded nothing good. A shock of sandy hair and a black tux seen through the door's peephole confirmed his suspicions.

He met her at the staircase, noting the brief expression of relief on her face at seeing him there, and she jumped the last several stairs to hug him quickly around the middle.

"That's my ride, gotta go, love you, Dad, bye!"

Gru was not impressed as he watched her rush off to the door.

"Margo...why is dair a boy on my doorstep?"

Halfway down the foyer, the teen came to a grinding halt, her posture clearly displaying her surprise at being caught.

"It—it's nothing, Dad, really." She spun to face him, but her eyes never quite reached his own. "It's just...my ride. That's all."

The doorbell rang again, and Margo shifted slightly, biting her lip in anxiety. He, however, ignored it.

"And how is dis..._boy_...getting you dair? If he is old enough for driving, dan he is too old for my daughter to be knowing-"

"No, Dad, listen, he's in my grade! His _mom_ is driving us there-"

"Why wit' de boy?" he cut her off, his patience failing.

She looked cornered for a moment, then she glared, and then she settled on a different look: defiance.

"He asked me to the formal. He's my date."

Gru's eyes bulged at the revelation and he spluttered, "D-date! You aren't—you can't—you said not'ing about a _date!_"

"Well, I couldn't, could I?" she shot back. "You would have overreacted. Kind of like you're doing now."

"Overreacting? I am doing just de right amount of reacting! You are not going. He is...too good looking, I do not trust him."

She stared, dumbstruck. "You're kidding! You heard the part about his _mom_ doing the driving, right? What's there to distrust?"

"Easy," he stated matter-of-factly, "he is a teenage boy, is he not? Automatically he cannot be trusted wit' you."

"No, Dad, _please!_ I've been looking forward to this all month! I'll do _anything_!"

The doorbell rang again, and before he knew it, the girl was hanging off the front of his sweater, carrying on as though her very life depended on this single event.

"Everyone in my school who's _anyone_ is going to be there, and chaperones will be everywhere! I _promise_ you nothing's going to happen! The closest to alone we'll be is in the car! _With his mom!_"

Gru studied his oldest daughter over, looking for a reason to cave.

There was the dress. Knowing how close of an eye he'd been having to keep on funds lately, she hadn't asked for so much as a dime from him to purchase it. She'd delved straight into her own savings without hesitation. And there was the entire half day she had taken to get ready for the thing, the complicated hairstyle that she'd painstakingly been forced to start over who knows how many times. She wasn't a girl of glamor. She wasn't loose with her money. And she didn't spend her time wastefully. That she had gone through such lengths and acted so completely out of the ordinary were a testament to how much this obviously did mean to her.

How could he possibly deny her of it all?

He sighed.

"...Fine."

And just like that, he was being hugged again, her anguish now gone.

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"But I will be talking to dis boy first."

"What? No!" Margo's horror-stricken voice squealed, and she recoiled from him. "No, no! I know what you're going to do, and you just can't! Please! Maybe you can wait until after the formal, or-"

So caught up was she in her plea that he had all the time he needed to choose something fairly simple, and he plucked a pin from her hair, allowing a layer of chestnut colored locks to cascade back down to her shoulder.

The shock on her face was priceless, even more so when the doorbell went off again and she grabbed the freed hair in panic.

"You should go fix that." He dropped the pin into her hand. "I will keep de boy-"

"Dillan," she corrected, still dazed from his stunt.

"Dillan?" He made a face. What kind of name was that?

"Yes, I will keep..._Dillan..._occupied before he finally geeves up, alrigh'?"

Not that Gru would be disappointed if he did. He didn't even bother to try to keep the smug smile on his face as he watched her.

She could only stare up at him, gaping for a few moments before her eyes narrowed. She waved the bobby pin in his direction.

"You are so..._evil_."

"Yes," he agreed with a small shrug. "Eez part of de job description."

Margo huffed and turned away, defeated, but hesitated once she reached the staircase. "Just...don't scare him away? Please?"

"Oh don't worry. I will not be scaring him. At leas', not away."

With one final, unsure glace, she was gone, and if there was one thing her rapid footsteps told him, it was that she wasn't going to give him much time to work with. Not that he would need much; he'd perfected the art of intimidation many many moons ago, and fatherhood had not dulled his mastery of it in the slightest. If he had to be honest, he was almost thrilled to have the opportunity to use it.

At long last, he opened the door. The boy—_Dillan_—was shrugging at a car in the road, but, at the sound of the door, he faced Gru, a smile on his features. The smile didn't stand a chance when paired against the villain's glare, however, and it soon crumbled away to uncertainty.

"Oh. Um," the boy stammered up to him. "You must be Margo's dad? I'm Dillan." He reached out his hand in tentative greeting, as if hoping the formality would break the ice, but Gru ignored it, staring passed the outstretched hand and to the teenagers face. He lowered his hand awkwardly and tried again.

"Um...I'm here to pick Margo up for the formal?"

Gru reveled in the questioning lilt to the boy's voice, a clue of his nervousness.

"Is she...ready to go?"

"She had to fix something but will be back shortly. You may wait inside until den."

Dillan jumped, having apparently not expected a response.

"Um, okay. Thank you." The teen made a hand motion to the car and the engine died down. He faltered at the threshold, obviously unsure as to whether he would make it back out of the house if he crossed it, but soon enough the two males were sitting in silence in the living room.

Gru could almost read the boy's thoughts as he scanned the room and it's unconventional décor. 'What have I gotten myself into?' was most assuredly at the forefront of his mind. It was a question that the man was dying to answer.

"Whatever eet is you are t'inking, eez probably very close."

Dillan gulped at the abrupt statement. Gru smirked. Then he stood, using his height to up the intimidation factor.

"So...you are planning to take my daughter to dis school formal." He took a step forward, which, in turn, caused Dillan to sink a little further into his seat.

"But before you do, I t'ink eez only fair to warn you: if you touch her, I will know. And I will find you, and as for you?" He was now practically hovering over the chair the teen was curled defensively in. "You will pay. I will leave de 'how' to your imagination." Gru scanned the numerous weapons adorning his walls with his eyes for effect. Then, more cheerily, he added, "Eet keeps de local authorities out of t'ings dat way!"

His timing was spot on.

"Dad, did you let him in?"

Margo came barreling into the living room and he grinned at her.

"Of course! And he's still here, even, jus' like I promised."

She looked from her father to Dillan, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before turning back to Gru with an unamused look on her face.

"Right..."

"What?" He shrugged. "Eez exactly as you asked."

She shook her head as if to tell him he was hopeless, but it didn't hide that smile of her's from his well-trained eyes.

"Let's go, Dillan. Sorry for being so late."

Dillan jumped up at the suggestion.

"Sounds great!"

The nervous crack in his voice only served to feed Gru's amusement. He followed the two teens back to the doorway, watching Dillan like a hawk the whole way there. At one point, it seemed the boy made to wrap an arm around Margo, but at a rather intruding throat clearing from Gru, the arm recoiled instantly. Margo looked back a him questioningly at the sound.

"Margo, can I have a quick word."

He waited for the boy to get the hint that he was not welcome to partake in the moment and was almost kind of sort of vaguely impressed with how very little time it took for him to come to the conclusion. Margo huffed slightly as Dillan stalked off to the car before glaring up at her father. He raised his hands in defense.

"I know, I know. I jus' wanted to say dis before you go, since I haven't already, dat you look very beautiful. And I 'ope dat you have fun."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her.

"But not too much fun."

Whatever she had expected, it obviously hadn't been that. Her expression softened at the words.

"And I'm sorry about de hair t'ing."

Margo scoffed, a small smile gracing her lips, and crossed her arms.

"Now I know you're making things up."

Gru grinned back. "You got me. But I really did mean de firs' part."

He frowned.

"And de second part."

With a small snort of laughter, she stretched up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"It'll be fine, Dad."

"And eef eet is not?"

"I'll call you!"

And then she rendered him speechless by brandishing her phone from her...her...

Well it had been tucked away in the front of her dress to put it lightly, and he couldn't help but stare as she filed it back away. He only hesitated for a moment before speaking what was on his mind.

"Is...is dair anyt'ing else in dair I need to be knowing about?"

"Nope!" she chirped, leaving him in stunned silence and taking the opportunity to cross the lawn and disappear into the night.

* * *

"Gorls!"

He passed by the kitchen door to find his remaining daughters sitting at the table with a gaggle of minions. Edith was dealing out a deck of cards for a game of some sort.

"I am going out. Eef you need anyt'ing, Dr. Nefario is still in de lab."

Neither girl nor minion responded or glanced his way and so, certain that he'd been paid no heed to in the least, he sidled his way out of the kitchen. Giving the front of his coat a pat and letting out a small chuckle for good measure, he set off to—

"Have fun stalking Margo at her formal!"

Gru paused, midstep, and his face fell.

"I am not—what are you talking about, Edith, I'm simply going...shopping."

He poked his head back around the doorway, but since her eyes were focused only her cards, his glare had no effect whatsoever.

"What for?" Agnes chimed in, cocking her head to one side.

"Dat is none of your concern."

"Well," Edith peaked over her fan of cards, "will you bring pizza when you get back?"

"No. Eez late for pizza."

"Yeah," she agreed with a nod, "but you're gonna need it when _Margo catches you!" _She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge and he immediately countered her.

"Margo will not _catch_ me. I am very sneaky, she won't even know I was dair."

Once more that night, Gru fell victim to the sounds of laughter directed his way. He only crossed his arms, waiting impatiently for them to die down. At last, his middle daughter had calmed enough for her to speak, and she did so with a smirk.

"You're too easy! I thought you were going shopping?"

"Of course I am going sho—oh." He cursed himself mentally once it occurred to him what he'd so readily admitted. He couldn't believe that he'd been tricked so easily. So he glowered some more while Agnes and Edith both shared a victorious grin.

Where _were_ these girls learning to be so difficult anyway?

Gru's eyes strayed warily to the cackling yellow creatures surrounding the table. In hindsight, dishing out the extra money for a _real_ babysitter might not have been so bad after all. He had spent every possible moment he could with the girls over the years, pushed back plans, lost sleep, and ultimately rearranged the entire way he lived life, but there were still times he'd had to leave them alone. Much as he dearly loved the girls, he was beginning to regret some of the choices he'd made raising them. It was too late now, though, and there was no point dwelling on it.

"You two jus' get back to your leetle game. I will be back later, _without_ peesa, because I won't be needing eet."

And ignoring the remarks of disbelief that followed him, he was out the door.

* * *

A half hour's time later found Gru navigating his way through the school's ventilation system. He'd learned long ago that they were just invented for the good guys to use. Villains and even concerned parents could successfully use them to their advantage. He squeezed his way along the claustrophobic airt ducts, squinting every now and then at the crude, last minute blueprints in his hands. The formal was supposed to take place in the school's cafeteria, that much he knew, but in his haste, he'd not been able download the labeled version, and finding it was proving to be almost impossible.

Several minutes of crawling, squinting, getting stuck, and cursing ensued before a dull thump and vibration in the metal tunnels caught his attention. A little further on, the muffled sounds of something he could only assume to be music wafted to his ears, and a small light ahead signaled the presence of a grating he could look through. Directly below him, a crowd of teenagers were...they were...well whatever it was the were doing, it most definitely didn't look like dancing. It rather brought to mind other blood-boiling thoughts, and he skimmed the crowd, desperately hoping not to find Margo amongst them. Moving from grate to grate in search of her, Gru delighted in the thought of all the torturous things he could do if that little punk had his hands on her like _that._

He needn't have worried, however, as Margo was standing with a few of her girl friends next to the food and punch table, doing exactly as she'd said she would be: drinking punch and having fun with friends. Only, as the girls she was with were whisked away by their own dates, he couldn't help but note how little fun his daughter seemed to be having. She was one of the few scattered at the edges of the room, looking on while their peers enjoyed themselves. Her face wasn't visible from this angle, but the way she had one arm wrapped around herself while the other slowly swirled her punch cup belied her true feelings.

Gru didn't understand. Margo had to be the most stunning girl there. So why was she alone on the outskirts of everything? And where was that little punk anyways? If it made her happy, he was actually willing to not kill the boy if he were to burst out of nowhere right now and sweep her off to the floor.

But not _too_ happy because killing him would no longer be an option; it would be an absolute necessity.

Resuming his search, this time for Dillan, he went from grate to grate again. Deep in the throng of teenagers was his daughter's date, dancing just as tastelessly as the rest with...another girl. In blind rage, Gru reached into his jacked, ready to teach the little jerk that _no one_ took _his_ daughter out and then ditched her for another girl, but when he looked back the couple had disappeared. Another short hunt found them emerging from the crowd and he prepared to take aim. Then Margo appeared out of nowhere, blocking his way. She said something to him and Dillan looked from her to the girl beside him and smiled. He made a hand motion to the girl and wrapped an arm smoothly around Margo's shoulders, and if it wasn't for her being so near, Gru would have blasted him then and there. As it were, he was leading her off to a corner and out of the villain's sight.

Gru scrambled to navigate the air ducts again, and when he found the two teens, they looked to be in a heated argument. Dillan said something and Margo stiffened. Whatever it had been had obviously upset her greatly, and the next thing Gru knew, there was blood. Dillan covered his face in anguish, and Margo stormed off, leaving Gru to marvel in shock at what she had just done. Of the three girls, he'd always expected Margo's calm sensibility to completely override anything he'd taught her over the years. And seeing her in action? He couldn't have been more proud!

"Dat's my gorl!" he laughed, as he watched the boy wallow in pain, but his moment of triumph was cut short by a buzzing in his pocket. Scooting away from the music echoing in the cramped space, he answered, "Yes, what is eet?"

"Um...Dad?"

He froze. Partly because he hadn't expected her to actually call, and partly because of her shaky breathing and the pinched voice she spoke with.

"Oh! Margo! I didn't realize—is everyt'ing—are you okay?"

"I—I know that you weren't planning on going out tonight, but...but do you think you could come pick me up?" There was a strangled sob on the other end and Gru's heart clenched. "You were right, Dad, this is dumb and pointless. I just...I just want to go home."

"Eez no problem. I'm leaving right now."

"Thanks, Dad."

He leaned back against the duct, unsure of whether to be angry that this entire things had happened in the first place, or guilty that he'd allowed the opportunity to arise by letting her go. Either way, he had a broken heart to mend and no experience as far as how to go about doing it, so, taking up the nigh useless blueprints once more, he sought to find his way back out of the impossible labrinth.

* * *

Margo was easy enough to find, even by the dim light emmitted from the school's windows. She sat at the curb, hugging her knees with her face burried between them, and dress shimmering more brilliantly than the moon itself. Gru met her at the car's door, and she threw herself a him at once. Even after five years, offering comfort was lost on him, but he embraced her back, hoping that it would be enough.

They stayed that way for a long time, but Gru didn't mind. There was something reassuring about knowing that she would still need him no matter how much she grew or how self-reliant she became. When she pulled back at last, eyes bright and puffy red, she climbed up the ladder to the front seat without a word. Uncertain of what he should say—or even if he should—he followed suit. Once seated, he looked back at her.

Margo's eyes were downcast, hands folded lamely in her lap; most of the pins in her hair had abandoned their task, and her dress billowed out, taking up most of the space in the small compartment. That's when he noticed something.

"What happened?" he asked, pointing out one of the dark discolored spots be-speckling her dress. Dillan's blood.

She stared blankly at the spots before answering. "It—It's nothing. I just...spilled some punch, I guess..."

"Oh."

The engined roared to life and, soon enough, the school was out of sight, though far from out of mind. Her lie had pierced him rather deeply, although he figured he shouldn't have expected anything more, and he fumbled to break the awkward silence hanging between them.

"So...eet was not what you were expecting?"

She looked up at him, then back to her lap.

"I don't really want to talk about it."

Her words only served to wound Gru further, and he questioned his previously secured sense of being needed. In this case he was completely helpless. Suppressed feelings of inadequacy as a parent resurfaced themselves in his mind but were quelled when she spoke again.

"Can we pull over? I don't think I want to see everybody at home just yet."

Of course he obliged. He tapped on the steering wheel as they sat in the uncomfortable silence. Then, completely unheeded, she spoke.

"Everything was great at first."

Gru stopped his mindless tapping in instant favor of listening to his daughter.

"I mean, one of the most popular guys in the school had asked _me_ to the formal, right? But then his ex showed up and he disappeared. I should have known it was too good to be true!" She paused to fumble with the fabric of her dress, tears shining afresh in her eyes. "Popular guys don't date brainiacs. It's my fault for thinking he might actually like me. How could I be so stupid!"

He wondered if he ought to interject right there, assure her that she wasn't stupid, that there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a so-called "brainiac", but something about her words had filled him with dread. He couldn't put his finger on what exactly it was, but that didn't stop him from gripping the steering wheel.

The teen wiped the falling tears from her eyes angrily and continued.

"When I found him, they were together. He tried to ignore me, but I wouldn't let him—he was _my_ date, and we'd barely spent ten minutes together the entire time! At first, he tried to put it all on _you—_" Gru winced slightly, remembering his threat to the boy "—but I knew it was just an excuse. Then—_then—_he says, 'Margo, you're a great girl and all, but—but _Nicole_,'" she could barely choke out the name, "'she wants to take me back, and I want her back too!'"

Margo erupted into hysterical sobs at that point, leaving a helpless Gru positively terrified at the prospect of stifling them. Unfortunately for him, she hadn't gotten to the worst part yet.

"This—this _entire_ l-last four weeks...i-it was...it was j-just a way to make her jealous! I-If he dated someone f-far enough _below_ her she'd just—she'd get jealous and take him back! B-But things were going so well! W-we ate lunch t-together! H-he walked me t-to class! H-he even—he even _kissed _me!"

Somehow the steering wheel held up throughout Gru's death grip. His eyes bugged and jaw dropped in horror at her confession. Images of Margo locked in passionate embrace with some faceless boy plagued his imagination, and the thought sickened him. Maybe other girls did those kinds of things, but not Margo—not _his_ little girl. She couldn't! She wouldn't! And yet, she'd just admitted otherwise. His mind went numb from shock

"So," her sobs had slowed enough for her to talk again, "so I told him that I hoped they were happy and they deserved one another, and I..I busted his nose. H-he deserved more...but I just wanted to get away." Then, to his surprise, she chuckled through her sobs. "I thought you were just being ridiculous earlier, but you were right. He was too good-looking to be trusted."

Did he say that? He didn't remember it, but then again very little was passing through his mind at the moment, so he probably had. It did sound rather ridiculous—even for him—but if she had found sense to the words he wouldn't dispute it.

"Dad? Aren't you going to say anything?" Her voice was pleading, desperate.

He tried to think of something to make her feel better or at least to make her laugh again, however forced it might be. He wanted to tell her that he hadn't raised her to doubt herself, or that he was proud of her for standing up for herself. But as things stood, only one thing came to mind.

"He..._keesed_ you?" Gru asked weakly.

Silence.

"That _entire_ story and that's all you have to say?"

At first he thought he'd upset her by missing the main point of the story, but an onslaught of giggles following her incredulous ouburst expressed her genuine amusement.

"Sorry," he shrugged. "Eet was not my favorite part."

The old villain turned around and smiled at her; the sound of her laughter had been enough to tug him from his disapproving and mind scarring thoughts. What truly mattered was that she wasn't crying any longer, and he had no desire to get her started up again. The smiles, however, he did know how to handle.

"But dat is not all! I also have what eet is you are looking for. Firs' off, eez his loss."

He took in the blood stained dress and failing pyramid of hair; her eyes were still a puffy red and leaking tears that dragged her mascara down with them. He caressed her cheek with his hand and attempted to wipe away the stubborn streaks. It didn't work as he'd intended, though, and only served to smudge the makeup over more of her face. It took all his will not to chuckle at the sight, as fragile as her mental state currently was, but he somehow managed to keep his amusement at bay.

"You were de most beautiful gorl there."

"Oh yeah? And how do you know that?"

"Uh..." Gru almost panicked that he'd given himself away again until he realized she was only teasing. "Eez a..._Dad_...t'ing. _I know everyt'ing."_

She arched a brow at him.

"Essept for de hidden boyfriend part, I'll admit you got dat one past me. But! Aside from dat, I am very proud of you. Yet I want you to know I have no problem going back to insult his injury with dis." He held up the ray gun he'd brought with him and grinned.

"It's 'add insult to injury', Dad."

"Eh, whatever."

There was another round of silence.

"I'm sorry...for keeping him a secret from you."

"Yes, you will be," he agreed, stowing the gun away. Margo jumped up with a start.

"Will? Wait. What? Weren't we, like, having a _moment_ here? Haven't I just had my heart broken and learned the hard way not to keep things like this from you? And that even if I never date, like, _ever_ again, that at least I'll always have my family?"

"Yes, but de moment is almost over, and I will have to be punishing you somehow. I would very much like to keep hearing about de never dating again part, though."

The girl scoffed and fell back into her seat, almost as if back to normal, but Gru was certain it would take far more time to completely recover from the whole ordeal.

"Now I know dis night was supposed to be special to you, and our moment is not yet over."

She perked up slightly at his words.

"So I need you to tell me if dair is anyt'ing I can do to help you make up for dis whole affair. And I do mean anyt'ing. In fact, de more dastardly, de better."

* * *

True enough, it was a far cry from the most sinister ploy he'd ever been part of, and it was childish to boot, but there was no denying how much fun it had been when, several cartons of eggs and a package or two of toilet paper later, father and daughter ran hand in hand through the deserted, pitch black streets. Their bouts of laughter echoed across the lawns, despite all efforts to stifle them, as they ran to the outskirts of the neighborhood to where the car was hidden away.

"Come on, come on! Hurry!" Gru urged, dragging Margo along behind him.

"I'm trying! But you're pretty fast for an old guy," she laughed, hiking up her skirt to keep from tripping.

"I would carry you, but I t'ink we're both too old for dat."

"By that you _do_ mean that _you're_ too old and I'm just too heavy for you to carry, right?"

Usually, the villain glared when the girls made a crack about his age, but he was in too good of spirits tonight. Besides, it was nothing more than a challenge, and he knew it.

"Why you leetle!"

And with a turn of the foot and a quick tug, he sent a squealing Margo sailing over his shoulder.

"You are very lazy for a teenaged girl, you know dat? And you were right. You are pretty heavy."

"You big jerk!" she screeched, still laughing, as she pounded on his back playfully with her fists.

"Shh!"

"Whoops!"

Winded and more than likely going to regret the pysical exertion in the morning, Gru reached the car at last.

"It's official," Margo began when she touched ground once more. "You are _the_ coolest dad ever."

"What, it took you dis many years to figure dat out?"

Smirking, she tapped her chin in mock thought—he hoped it was mock, in any case—and studied him up and down. "No. Just to make it official. You had to make it through the first breakup to qualify."

She took the first step into the car but paused.

"Besides," she added softly, "who needs other guys when I've got you?"

She didn't turn around, but Gru could hear her content smile in her voice.

He stood, transfixed by her words, and followed her up the ladder with his eyes. His heart swelled in his chest with feelings he didn't think there were words to describe, and he almost feared it would explode.

But it didn't.

Once certain he would not become the emotional mess Margo had been an hour previous, he grinned, suddenly feeling light as air. Maybe he was better at this dad thing than he thought.

Maybe next time he wouldn't have to worry so much.

And with that thought, Gru stepped into the warmth of the car, leaving the chilly night air behind him.

* * *

_**A/N: Yay for Father/Daughter fluff! It wasn't originally a part of the idea, but it just happened. I love my father/daughter moments with my own dad, so why not, yes?**_


End file.
